


Divine Intervention

by anachronist



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Epilogue spoilers (Hades), Gen, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Please don't repost this fic on other sites, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Deathly Hallows, mentions of war and violence, unintentional myth acquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27427954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anachronist/pseuds/anachronist
Summary: Than's pretty sure he'd remember if another mortal tried to give him the slip.(Contains spoilers for Hades epilogue)
Relationships: background Thanatos/Zagreus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	Divine Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 11/07: corrected several terms. This is why I shouldn't edit half-asleep.

Than’s chamlys gets torn one time, caught on an unusually low branch of a winged oak with roots that extended deep into Tartarus, and the loose fabric flutters away in the wind.

It's of no consequence, for he simply takes another cloak from his wardrobe of plenty, and carries on with his business.

000

A jewel from his short sword’s handle comes off and tumbles to who-knows-where. He’s been to the mortal plane that day, harvesting souls that had expired from famine, and there are plenty of countries to visit should he retrace his steps.

Than makes a quick stop at Daedelus’ workshop, and it's replaced in minutes.

000

The crack on the long handle of his scythe, however, gives him pause.

“Daedelus,” he says in a tone that might imply confusion were he anyone but Thanatos, Death Incarnate, one of Lord Hades’ dedicated servants. Death is decisive. Death is absolute. Death, most importantly, doesn't enjoy trickery and games that affect the efficiency of his job and leave him humiliated, once was enough, thank you Sisyphus. “This hasn’t happened in the aeons I’ve borne this scythe. Not even the Infernal Arms show signs of wear and tear. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Master Thanatos,” Daedelus says with a thoughtful stroke of his chin. “Perhaps it is because you frequently use this for more hours than there are in a day on the surface?”

“Zagreus doesn’t have this problem,” Than points out.

“Master Zagreus has six weapons to choose from, and they all change forms.” Daedelus clears his throat uncomfortably as he takes Death’s scythe deeper into his forge. “I’ll check on them after this, if you’d like. Just to be safe.”

“Please do.”

“Shall I reinforce the snath with plated metal?”

“By all means,” Than says, turning to leave the master to his work. "Thank you, Daedelus."

000

“Than.”

“Zagreus?”

“Have you listened to the shades gossip lately?”

This isn’t the kind of conversation he expects to have in the sweltering heat of Asphodel. Than frowns. “I don’t have time for trifle activities like that.”

Zagreus laughs, bright and fond. “Fair enough. Gossip isn’t your usual thing, no! But look, Than – they’re talking about you.”

“Me?”

“There’s a story about three brothers milling about on the surface: they supposedly have a few things of yours. Two died after doing presumably terrible things, but the third one became your friend. Isn’t that nice?”

Than crosses his arms, unimpressed. “To give credit where credit’s due, it’s different from their other inventions to scare each other. However, I think I’d remember associating with a living human. Sorry to disappoint.”

He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“…huh.” Zagreus rubs his chin, looking slightly troubled. “That’s not what I heard.”

“Why are you trusting a mortal’s account over Death’s,” Than scoffs, hovering backwards. Indeed, he almost put an abrupt end to this detour by popping away popped away and put an abrupt end to this detour when a heavy hand catches his forearm.

“I believe you,” Zagreus says with painful, awkward sincerity, giving Than’s arm an apologetic squeeze. “But I thought you should know after the whole… you know.” He clears his throat. “Thing with Bouldy’s friend.” 

Than gives him a very patient look. Perhaps he can afford to give this much more time, with how Zagreus just took great pains to not say Sisyphus’ name and avoid exacerbating his mood.

“Anyway,” Zagreus continues hurriedly, “there’s a human up there waving something called the Death Stick, and _Lord Ares_ asked what that’s about. Says it calls, and I quote, ‘the hungriest souls caught in cycles of power and vengeance.’ You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I don’t,” Than says with a shake of his head. A stick isn’t the flashiest weapon for revenge, but mortals commit to the most unfortunate applications of creativity if they believe they’re pushed into a corner. Ares’ remark, moreover, does give him pause: seeing as the God of War holds any unusual or unorthodox killing methods in high regard, there may be more to this subject than the obvious. “It sounds ridiculous. Nevertheless, I’ll keep an eye out. Thank you, Zagreus.”

“That’s all I ask,” Zagreus says, leaning in for a kiss before stepping back. “Take care, Than.”

“You too,” Than says, giving Zagreus a rare smile before vanishing in a flash of eerie green.

Perhaps he should pay his sister a visit soon to see if she has a hand in this. After all, meting divine retribution to penalize hubris is her jurisdiction.

000

Lord Hades, of course, catches wind of the news eventually, for Lord Hades takes running his court and its reputation very seriously.

“Thanatos,” he rumbles ominously. “What’s this I hear about a Resurrection Stone?”

An implement of death, at the end of the day, is a tool that severs a soul from its body. That isn’t an issue. An item with a name that implies _escaping_ death on a whim, however, is. Hell must remain unescapable, the hazards of Zagreus’ job notwithstanding, and Lord Hades will not accept anything less.

“I’ve investigated the rumors, Lord Hades.” Than presents a sheaf of paper. The initial report is three inches thick and contains both his own findings and information Zagreus managed to get from souls before they drink from the Lethe. “We can still only speculate that this is a necromancer’s work. The object in question isn’t able to create a body. It can, however, be used to summon the correct shade that the necromancer intends to house in a constructed body. Without a physical anchor to the mortal world, the shade can only linger if the Stone’s user feeds them their energy: a hyperlocal and out-of-season Anthesteria, if you will. Anyone foolish to attempt this dies sooner rather than later.”

That the foul knowledge of creating a soulless human body is centuries lost to mortals remains unspoken, even in the Queen’s garden. 

_Especially_ in the Queen’s garden.

“I see,” says Lord Hades as he strokes his thick beard, still disgruntled but noticeably without ire. Had this conversation happened before Zagreus and his parents sorted out the situation and their differences, Than suspects it would’ve gone differently. “And where is the Stone?”

Than gives the name of the mortal that last activated it.

“I tracked his descendants,” Than says. “They’re using it as an heirloom. If they lose it, however, I won’t have the means of finding it again until it’s used.”

“If we aren’t able to retrieve the object, perhaps it would be better were it to fall into obscurity,” Lord Hades ponders, and shakes his head with a sigh. Things that belong to the surface stay on the surface, unless they tumble through the deepest cracks in the earth or end up in the Underworld through any number of mysterious means deemed necessary by the Fates. “In the meantime, I’ll review your report. Send me an update should there be any developments.” 

Than touches his chest and bows his head. “Of course.”

“Good,” Lord Hades nods, tucking the report under his arm before sweeping out the garden’s gates, red cloak billowing behind him. “Dismissed.”

000

All souls are accounted for every time he returns to work on the surface.

He, Charon, and Hermes have a system in place. Than _happens,_ Hermes guides them, and Charon ferries those who pay the toll. A few notable exceptions aside, nothing at all has sparked the need to change it, and Zagreus’ Lord Uncle Zeus hasn’t recently fathered any half-gods capable of throwing a wrench in the works.

And so the tapestry of Time unfolds, every weave deliberately threaded.

Humans have certainly thrived once the Lady Demeter corrected the cycle of seasons. Consequently, work in the past few centuries has only increased in quantity, leading Zagreus to take it upon himself to distract Than at opportune moments lest than discorporate from the pressures of overwork, conveniently forgetting that Death cannot become void for as long as Life exists.

Being fussed over is completely unnecessary. After all, his mother impressed on him aeons ago the importance of managing his time well, and he isn’t foolish to dismiss her advice. Still, Than endured the treatment without complaint, keeping select retorts to himself in favor of letting Zagreus care for him. 

Maybe after this, he’ll see how Zagreus is doing or invite him to the Lounge. There’s a bottle of Ambrosia with their names on it.

“Say – Thanatos?” A puzzled Hermes hovers next to him, looking between the group of shades Than’s rounded up and an upright, empty chair pushed back against the crumbled wall at the far corner of the decimated room. Across the scorched town, a siren continues to wail. “This is everyone?”

“Yes,” Than says, doing a quick headcount. “That’s everyone.”

Hermes makes a thoughtful sound. “Alright then.”

They whisk the souls away, and nothing more is said of the matter.

000

They're snuggling on Zagreus’ bed when The Fated List of Minor Prophecies glowed and sent ominous intangible tremors throughout the realm, the rippling of a bell’s toll. Predictably, Zagreus hastened to the ledger, leaving Than to follow at a more sedate pace.

“’The Son of Hades shall meet the one who reunites the Deathly Hallows,’” Zagreus recites, “’and Death shall gain a friend.’ Well, this kind of announcement hasn’t happened in a long while.”

“Is this how the three Fates usually unveil their plans to you,” Than asks, keeping his eyes closed as he rests his chin on Zagreus’ shoulder. The very letters of the List are inaccessible to him, and he trusts that his sisters have their reasons for doing things. Even if his involvement in this new one is seemingly out of place. “In the middle of a rare break?”

“No. Sometimes, a series of events just take place, and a prophecy appears here. Or someone from the other side of the family gives an activation phrase. Like I said, it hasn’t happened for a long time.” Zagreus relaxes in his embrace, resting the back of his head on Than’s shoulder. “What are the Deathly Hallows?”

Than sighs, exasperated. “Remember the Death Stick?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s one of three items that I supposedly gifted to mortals.” He leaves out the part where Death is supposedly incensed that the three brothers didn’t die after crossing a bridge, for having a good skill set to aid in one’s survival isn’t the same as temporarily cheating Death. Just ask Sisyphus. “I’ve verified the existence of the Stone – it allows its wielder to call forth a Shade. The third object is supposedly a Cloak, but I’ve yet to see it anywhere.”

“Okay.”

“’Okay?’” Than looks at him, suspicious. “You usually have more questions than this.”

Zagreus laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “So I do. But you clearly dislike this new story the mortals have come up with. If the Fates say I’ll meet their eventual owner one day, I can spare you the trouble and ask it from them directly.”

This suggestion sits with Than as steadily as a rickety bucket tumbling down an old, empty well after its fraying rope snapped.

“Ask me anyway,” he says, glancing away. “I might not know all the answers right now, but I’d rather hear what’s on your mind if you have thoughts meant for me.”

The flush spreading on Zagreus’ cheeks is rather endearing. “And this won’t annoy you? Any more than the usual, I mean.”

“I think we’ve established that I’m annoyed at the story and not you,” Than says with a nudge. “Time to get back to work.”

000

A human mage manages to discover how to split the very essence of their soul.

Lord Hades is so incensed by the audacity that he practically invents an entirely new punishment for them, overseen exclusively by Tisiphone.

When Zagreus complains about how annoying his latest infernal opponent is, Than has only one thing to say.

“Be grateful you weren’t the one who had to keep track of their two halves,” Than grimaces as he hands over a centaur heart. “Seeing as they couldn’t pay the fine - _either_ half of them, if you can imagine – they had to wait at the Styx’s shores and let the prescribed one hundred years pass before Charon allowed them onboard. You’d think they’d stick together, but it seems that even their rationality is split in two.”

Zagreus winces. “So that’s why Charon’s been in a terrible mood lately.”

Than, very prudently, doesn’t ask if his brother had recently lured Zagreus to yet another duel. The heavy pouch of obols by his lover’s hip is answer enough.

000

“Thanatos, beloved partner of my hellborn kin,” Ares greets him as they watch the conflict unfolding on a castle’s grounds. They’ve always been on cordial terms, but coming from the god of war, that form of address was positively warm. Undoubtedly, his fascination with the current battlefield was a positive influence on his mood. “This abomination. He fears you.”

There is little need to question what he is referring to. The not-human’s frayed existence flickers weakly his ill-gotten form, barely even a soul. Than curls his lip in distaste.

“I’m the least of his worries,” he says, readying his scythe. He'll have his hands full until Ares returns to Olympus, for that's the only time Hermes will appear. “My Lord Hades will likely give him a scorching welcome.”

Ares laughs and runs his fingers down his ever-unsheathed blade. “Then I hope I get to greet him should he finally enter this battle. How do you think he’ll fare against the Death Stick?”

Than snaps up in surprise at the unpleasant reminder. “What?”

000

The boy falls when the sickeningly green curse slams into him, and the space around them distorts until even Ares’ ringing laughter can no longer be heard.

Here, as the boundary between worlds settles into its temporary form, Than finally understands.

“Hecate,” he greets, an unhappy lump sinking in the pit of his stomach. “I should’ve known.”

“Thanatos,” she nods in returned greeting, the sour reception unable to dampen the satisfaction of finishing a feat that took centuries to fashion. Indeed, the chthonic goddess looks well enough for someone Than hasn’t seen in ages, at least in the scant few minutes he sees her before she transforms into the shape of a soul that had been collected only a year ago. Hecate’s otherworldly radiance is dimmed in her bearded disguise, but the twinkle in her eyes and the garish robes she now wears try to make up for the difference. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t let any more of your things fall by the wayside, and say ‘hi’ to Cousin Persephone for me.”

“Tell her that yourself,” Than scowls before exiting liminal space, though he does end up passing the message to the Queen.

“Hecate’s up and about with her usual tricks, is she?” Queen Persephone pats his arm in apology as she takes him to the Lounge, deeming this important enough for him to sit down and have a drink to calm his nerves. “She’s my second cousin from Grandmother Theia’s side of the family. Before I met Hades and came to live here, most of my knowledge of the Underworld was from her.”

“I see,” Than frowns. Zagreus’ complicated family tree strikes again. Than hadn’t known that connection, and Mother Nyx had only said Hecate was the daughter of a Titan. “Is that why she hasn’t visited the House since Lord Hades took the throne?”

“Possibly, but it’s best to ask her.” The Queen calls over the Head Chef as soon as they have a seat, and they are served two full goblets: spiced pomegranate wine, brewed with the latest harvest from the Queen’s own garden. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you know? I’m sure my husband will appreciate it if we prepare him for the surprise.”

The boy, now a man, inevitably finds his way to Tartarus with his body and soul still intact.

“So let me get this straight,” Zagreus says, shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter as he leans on Bouldy for support. “You tripped on a root, fell down through a sizable gap in the earth, and ended up all the way down here to meet the one guy supposedly infamous for capturing Death. Wait until Than hears about this!”

“In my defense,” Harry Potter protests with a white-knuckled grip around the Elder Wand, “it was a very thick root!”

“I’m sure it was,” Sisyphus says agreeably. “Will you be waiting here for Master Thanatos? I’d rather they not remember to visit me at all, but if you can’t spare the time, Prince Z, I’m sure one of the Fury Sisters can bring him to the House for you.”

“No need,” Zagreus grins, bouncing the flat of his sword on his shoulder. “I’ll take him with me. Maybe not all the way to the sur – uh, _gates_ \- but there’s a nice glade in Elysium that Achilles sometimes visits. Would you like a tour of the Underworld, Harry Potter?”

“Just ‘Harry’ is fine,” Harry Potter sighs, looking rather resigned as he retrieves a long scrap of cloth from his hip pouch. “You won’t mind if I stay invisible until we get to the next safe spot, will you?”

**Author's Note:**

> References:
> 
> 1\. The tree thing is based on [this](https://mythology.stackexchange.com/questions/1973/is-there-a-world-tree-in-greek-mythology) thread.
> 
> 2\. The long handle thing of a scythe is called a 'snath.' Thanks, google.
> 
> 3\. Samhain doesn't seem to have a direct equivalent. [Anthesteria](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthesteria) is the closest.
> 
> And that's it! Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think 💙


End file.
